


If I Fell in Love with You

by Oh_Martha_My_Dear



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Dry Humping, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hair Pulling, Hickeys, John is a sassy lil bitch, Light Angst, M/M, Paul loves him anyway, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 09:50:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18466516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_Martha_My_Dear/pseuds/Oh_Martha_My_Dear
Summary: While John and Paul are doing some song writing in their hotel room, some feelings come into light.





	If I Fell in Love with You

“And then we can have Ringo do a little drum bit after that” I say, demonstrating what I mean my tapping my hands on the tops of my thighs in a slow, smooth rhythm. 

John listens intently from where he is seated beside me, a smile creeping onto his face once he starts to piece everything together. “That’s perfect, Macca”. 

He takes one last glance at the lyrics we have laying on the coffee table in front of us before getting up from his seat to retrieve his guitar that is leaning against the wall. 

I lean back in my chair, watching as he saunters across the room, his shirt rolled up to his elbows, his jeans gripping his legs tightly, giving a very nice outline of hi- what am I doing? 

I turn away, focusing on a suddenly very interesting spot on the ceiling, crossing my legs for good measure. 

Once he returns, guitar in hand, he starts strumming. The slow, melodic minor chords bring the song to life.

“If I fell in love with you-“ he starts, his voice quiet and unsure.

He focuses hard on the lyrics in front of him, his eyes squinting at the page. His hands however are much more relaxed, almost as if they are moving at their own accord across the strings.

“Would you promise to be true”

I jump in to harmonise with him on the words “and help me understand”. 

He smiles as he continues to sing. His fingers continue to dance along the fretboard, trying out a chord and changing it if it doesn’t sound right.

“If I give my heart to you” he sings, glancing up at me through his eyelashes. I jump in on the next lyric, taking the hint that he wanted me to join. 

“From the very start,” the almost sad tone gives the words a whole different meaning, turning lyrics of love to lyrics of pleading.

“That you will love me more than her” I only hear myself for the last part, john voice dropping to nothing but a whisper before fizzling out entirely.

I smile, “That was great Johnny” I say, looking back up at him to find him already staring at me with an unreadable expression.

He Looks at me like he’s asking a question, his eyes searching my face for an answer but coming up empty handed.

“What is it?” I ask, breaking the hard silence that had fallen between us. 

At that, he is suddenly pulled out of his thoughts. He shakes his head and mutters a quiet “nothing” in response. 

With a sigh he sets the guitar back down, and relaxes into his seat. Hesitantly I do the same, still confused by the staring that has been left unexplained. 

“Do you think this will last?” He says suddenly.

“Do I think what will last?” 

“This whole band thing” he replies, toying with a loose thread on the hem of his shirt.

“Well..” I start, stopping myself to think.

We never really consitered that. We worked so hard to get to the top and that’s all we could think about, none of us even thought about how long we could remain their before we were forced to travel down the other side.

“I don’t know” I decide. 

“These things are unpredictable. I guess we’ll just have to ride the wave while we’re on it”.

He seems unsatisfied with my response but nods anyway. 

“What if this all ends tomorrow, like we never play another show?” He asks. I stay silent, taking the hint that this is probably a rhetorical question.

“I mean, It can get annoying with all the girls constantly following us and crowding around our cars and the tabloids won’t leave us alone and of course having to stay in hotel room after hotel room can be a drag but I gotta admit, I love it “I love hearing the crowds scream my name so loud that it makes my ears bleed. I love knowing that there are people out their who are listening to our music on repeat just like we did with our heroes”

he stares at the ceiling as he says all this, his hands gesturing wildly as he speaks. 

“And I love just sitting here songwriting and knowing that it’s going somewhere. Especially when I’m writing with you” he moves around some of the papers we have splayed out on the table, his eyes jumping from one word to another.

“I like writing with you to” I reply.

He looks up at me and smiles warmly, his eyes scrunching up at the corners. Silence falls over us once again, the only sound filling the room is the muffled footsteps of people passing by outside our hotel room door. 

His eyes are locked onto mine, not searching for anything but just looking. Hesitantly he looks down to my lips for a moment before coming straight back up, now with a hint of worry in them. 

I decide to even the playing field, looking down at his lips, making it slow and deliberate. He sighs, relief washing over him.

I make the first move, leaning in slowly, making sure that he has the opportunity to back out at anytime he chooses. I’m halfway there before he meets me there, quickly placing his lips on mine. 

For a moment we just sit there, connected and exploring this new feeling.

He leans back briefly, disconnecting our lips before coming back and capturing me in a warm, slow kiss. He moves hesitantly, like he’s afraid he’ll do something wrong. Slowly I bring my hand up to his face, lightly caressing his cheek. He relaxes under my touch.

This seems to give him more confidence however, as he adjusts his position to face me and brings his hands up to tangle his fingers in my hair, pulling me even closer. 

The kiss starts to get more heated and begins to have more intention behind it. 

I take advantage of the situation a lean forward, causing him to lay back on the the couch. The last bit of tension that he was carrying seems to melt away once he relaxes back into this reclined position.

But that is gone just as quick as it came as he places a hand on my chest, pushing me away forcefully. 

When I sit back I see him lying there, his hair sticking up in a thousand different directions and a worried expression on his face. 

“John?” I say quietly, feeling quite worried myself.

Did I just fuck this all up?

He stays quiet for a moment breathing heavily and looking anywhere but at me. Slowly I reach out my hand to touch his arm but I never get there as he puts a hand up to block my movement.

“Don’t Paul” he say quietly.

I place my hand back into my lap with a sigh. 

“That was a mistake” he says, breaking the silence.

We quickly fall back into it however, the absence of sound eating away at me. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, the air hanging heavy with words left unsaid.

I fucked up, this friendship we’ve spent years building is crumbling before my eyes.

“Does it have to be a mistake?” I say suddenly, the words leave my lips before I fully understand what I’m saying.

Worried, I look over to gauge his reaction. He’s just sitting there, staring up at the ceiling, not saying a thing.

“It’s illegal Paul” he replies monotonically.

I scoff.

“We both know that’s never stopped you from doing things before” at that he laughs and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. 

Some small piece of evidence that proves he doesn’t completely hate me, that something of what we had as friends is still there.

“But Y’know, we can just forget about all this. I mean we can just go ba-“ I am cut off by his hand gripping my arm. 

I look over to see him look at me with big glistening eyes. We spend a moment just staring at each other, communicating through looks although neither of us could understand what the other was saying. 

Maybe, I’m sorry? I’m worried? I hate you? I love you? It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is how we choose to act in this situation.

He opens his mouth to speak but closes it again and repeats this process a few more times before finding the right words to say.

“I—I don’t think I want to go back to before” he says, staring straight into my eyes.

I swallow nervously, “What do you want?” I ask hesitantly, debating whether or not I want to know the answer.

I get one however when he leans forward, closing the distance between us once again, pressing his lips against mine. Now it’s my turn to release the tension in my shoulders. 

I reach my hand up to tangle my fingers in his hair, gripping tight and not wanting to let him go. 

We start slowly but quickly get more intense. Soon we are in the same position we were in when he pushed me away. Both of his hands are caressing my face, his thumb brushing passed my cheekbone every now and then.

One of my hands is in his hair, the other one pressing into the couch cushion beside his head to keep myself propped up. 

I decide to test my limits and lightly bite his lip as I go in for another kiss. In response he moans quietly. The sounds sends all the blood in my body downwards which causes my pants to feel uncomfortably tight. 

He reciprocates the action by biting back and then sliding his tongue past my lips, asking for entrance. I oblige hurriedly. 

In and attempt to readjust my position, I accidentally press my hips down onto his. He whines at the contact. 

His hands slide down from my hair to grip my hips tightly. He urges me to keep going by pressing down on my lower back. Then next time I grind down, he meets me halfway by picking up his hips. He breaks the kiss by letting his head drop back, his mouth agape as he pants.

I continue to move, gaining speed. His grip on my hips tightens, his fingers digging into the flesh. 

“Fucking hell, don’t stop Paul” He pleads breathily. 

I nodd, my forehead resting on his shoulder.

The room that was once filled with silence is now filled with the sounds of our heavy breathing and the fabric of our pants rubbing together. 

I move my head from his shoulder to press my lips against his neck. I suck lightly at the skin and move my way upwards, trying to find that perfect spot. 

When I slowly lick the skin right behind his ear he lets out a low groan, his hands gripping even tighter. I have no doubt I’ll have bruises tomorrow. 

With the combination of me kissing his neck and grinding down on to his crotch, John begins to squirm. 

His hands leave my hips and start to travel everywhere else. Up my back, down my arms, around my thighs, he seems restless. I decide to change the position up a little bit to try and get a new angle.

When I sit up, my lips leaving his neck and my hips no longer in contact with his, he whines eyes squeezing shut. 

“James Paul McCartney, you get back here right now. I swear to god” he says impatiently, his breathing still laboured and the bulge in his pants straining against the fabric holding it back.

I smirk at his words. “Just give me a second, this will be so much better, I promise” I reply. 

He only lets out an overly dramatic sigh in response. 

Carefully, I straddle one of his legs, making so that my thigh is pressed against his cock and mine is pressed against his thigh. 

Hesitantly I grind down again and “Holy fucking shit” I say out loud, my thoughts spilling out of my lips. 

I look up and see that he is at a loss for words, his mouth hanging open as one hand grips my arm and the other is tangled in his hair, pulling hard. 

“Who would have thought you had a hair pulling kink Johnny Boy?” I laugh, halfway cut off my a moan as I hit his leg at the perfect angle.

“Shut the fuck up Paul” He replies rushed.

I can see by the concentration on his face that he is getting close. I’m not that far off myself, I can feel that coil in my stomach tightening. 

I lean down and connect my lips with his, capturing him in a rushed, hot, biting kiss. The hand that I have gripping his side, comes up to grip his hair. I pull hard but not as hard as I can, gauging his reaction on whether or not I should go farther. 

When I pull, he groans from deep it his throat. I take that as a good response and continue to tighten my grip.

He pulls his head away from mine, ending the kiss. He bites his lip as he squeezes his eyes shut once again. I can tell he is teetering right on the edge.

“C’mon Jonny, come for me” I whisper in his ear, adding a little extra tug on his hair for good measure. 

That seems to do it as his mouth falls open in a silent scream and his back arches high off of the couch. Little short gasps leave his throat as he shakes through his orgasm.

I press light kisses up his neck as I grind down harder and faster, chasing my own climax. 

Only three more rolls of my hips and I am coming with a groan, my arm finally giving up at holding me up and causing me to fall on top of John, my face buried in the crook of his neck. 

We lay there in silence for a few moments, the sounds of our breathing being the only thing that fills the room.

“That’s was,” John starts. A beat of silence passes before he continues. “Definitely something”.

My eyebrows draw together in concern at his words. I lift my head to look at him and I wish I could take a picture.

His hair is sticking up, his lips red and bruised, his cheeks pink, and angry bruises travel their way up his neck, all the way behind his ear.

“Good different, or bad different?” I ask. 

He smiles and lightly pecks my lips in response. “Very, very good” he says, kissing me between each word. 

We both smile, just mapping out each other’s faces with our eyes as we lay there, taking in the moment.

My eyes land back on the hickeys. It will be impossible to cover those up.

“Sorry about that” I say, brushing my fingers over one of the bruises.

“Guess I got carried away”. He smirks at my words.

“No worries, I’ll just tell ‘em I hooked up with a really kinky bird” he says, a wicked smile crawling up onto his face. 

“Oh really?” I reply, arching an eyebrow.

“Mmhm” he hums, nodding his head.

“She had short brown hair, hazel eyes, and the cutest little arse” he says, grabbing said arse with both hands at the end of his sentence. 

“Sounds like you got lucky Mr. Lennon” I say laughing.

He laughs as well before speaking again. “Yeah, me and Paula are going to run away together someday” he looks at me, trying to suppress a smile but failing miserably at it.

“Now, I think the name Paula might cause some suspicion” I say before be both explode into another fit of laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! This is my first attempt at anything smutty so please be kind. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!
> 
> With love
> 
> Marie


End file.
